CHAPTER XXI.
JACKO STEALS THE CAPTAIN'S PUDDING.
It would take a good many chapters to tell my readers all the tricks that this favourite of the gun-room mess played.
The surgeon, Dr. Grant, and he were excellent friends, and were often together; and sometimes if one of his mess-mates was a bit off colour, the Ugly Duckling would prescribe or pretend to prescribe for him, and his prescriptions were at times droll, to say the least.
One day, for instance, the white-faced young clerk was ailing. He frequently was.
"No use you going to Dr. Grant," said the Duckling; "he'll only give you black-strap and make you worse. Here, out with your note-book and I'll dictate a prescription. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Duckie."
"Well then, heave round: 'Recipe'. Got that down? It's Latin, you know, so have a care, but all the rest is English. Place a saucepan on the galley fire, and when it is heated to redness pour therein seven ounces of spirits of wine."
"Yes."
"When it comes to the boil place therein the tail of a toad—"
"But toads have got no tails."
"Well, a frog's tail will do."
"And frogs have no tails, Duckie. You're a bit off your natural history."
"Well," cried the Duckling, "a garden worm will do. That's all tail. Got 'im down?"
"Yes."
"Next, place in your cauldron a hair of the dog that bit you."
"Yes."
"And next—mind, this is very important, and will greatly aid the efficacy of the medicine—five drops of the sweat of a murderer's right hand."
The white-faced young clerk glared up aghast.
"Wh—wh—why," he faltered, "there is no murderer on board!"
"Well then, kill somebody yourself!" shouted the Ugly Duckling. "Ta-ta! I'm off to give the doctor a dancing lesson on the main-deck."
Well, that was precisely what he was doing five minutes after.
Dr. Grant was a splendid dancer of Highland flings and reels, &c., but, good-looking fellow though he was, he would have told you himself that he always felt a fool at an English ball or hop, and he hated being a wall-flower.
So the Ugly Duckling had offered to teach him, and had you come forward on the fighting-deck during practising-time, you would have seen a sight to amuse you. There was the chief bo's'n, a capital violinist, seated astraddle on one of the big guns, and playing some sweet, sad waltz, and yonder the little Duckling and the great Scotch doctor floating round and round the deck, with an awkwardness, however, that caused all the onlookers to shout with merriment.
The doctor didn't laugh a bit. It was a very serious matter for him indeed. His happiness was at stake; so he stuck to it, and tripped on the not very light fantastic toe.
His assiduity was finally rewarded, however, and he became one of the best dancers on board, and on shore was quite a favourite with the ladies.
* * * * * * * * * * *
At first the great monkey had been simply called Jacko, or Able-seaman Jacko. But the Duckling determined to raise him to the rank of admiral. First and foremost, however, he took no small pains in teaching his simian friend to walk erect. This he soon learned. Then to salute, &c.
After he was perfect in these accomplishments Jacko's promotion came. Well, you know, reader, it isn't the first time one of a ship's crew has risen from powder-monkey to admiral.
Then why shouldn't Jacko? Why not indeed?
The Duckling took up some nice ship's serge and buttons and gold-lace from the paymaster, and then he made friends with the ship's tailor. In less than a week after this, behold Jacko rigged out in the full-dress of a rear-admiral, cocked-hat, sword, and all.
No ward-room officer except Dr. Grant was "in the know", and the doctor good-naturedly gave the Duckling the use of the sick-bay for training purposes, and for the practice of their evolutions.
I verily believe, from the aptitude to learn which Jacko evinced, that the droll rascal was not a little proud of his splendid uniform and epaulettes.
Anyhow, his education was soon complete. So one evening, as the captain, all alone in his quarters, was bending over a chart—the ship being then not far from land,—Bobbie, the wee Scotch midshipmite, who was a great favourite with Captain Leeward, knocked smartly at his door and quickly entered.
"An admiral come off to see you, sir!" he squeaked. "Shall I show him in?"
"Most certainly, Mr. Robertson. But—"
And the captain rose in some agitation, and pushed back his chair.
The state of his feelings may be better conceived than printed when in marched Admiral Jacko.
Jacko took off his cocked hat, and bowed.
"Ah—ha—ah—ha," the monkey said, for all the world like a nervous man beginning a speech, and held out his little black hand as if to shake.
Bobbie stuffed his mouth with his handkerchief. It would have been rude to laugh before his captain, but when the latter threw himself down in his chair in an apparent state of convulsions, then the midshipmite laughed too, and even the captain's steward could not refrain from joining the chorus.
Five minutes after this the ship seemed shaken from stem to stern by the wild hilarity of the ward-room officers. They had been at their dessert when Bobbie introduced the Admiral.
The best of it all was, that Jacko himself looked as grave as an Oxford don. Never a smile was on his face. Not even the ghost of one.
But the new admiral was given a chair and a plate, and, behaving himself with all decorum, enjoyed a hearty feast of nuts and raisins. After this, accompanied by Bobbie, he bowed and took his leave. He had taken good care, however, to stuff one of his cheeks with nuts before he got down off his chair, till it stuck out like—so the doctor phrased it—a very bad case of inflammation of the parotid gland.
Admiral Jacko, it must be admitted, was a very funny fellow, but I fear I could not certify that he was strictly honest. Real rear-admirals would never, for instance, do what Admiral Jacko did once. He was on the fighting-deck one day, and noticed the captain's steward pass into the saloon with a nice little plum-pudding.
Jacko, in full uniform, walked past the door several times and had a sniff, the sentry smiling and presenting arms to him. But presently an officer entered to inform the captain that a strange man-o'-war was in sight, and leaving his luncheon he went on deck to have a look at her. This was the Rear-admiral's chance. He rushed in and as quickly came out again, hugging the brown and savoury pudding in his arms.
The sentry didn't present arms to him this time, only he determined not to tell upon poor Jacko.
"Bring in the pudding, steward," said Captain Leeward.
"Oh, sir, I brought it!"
"Then where is it?"
"That's what I should like to know, sir!"
He clapped his hand to his head, and for a moment looked confused.
"Oh, sir," he cried next minute, "I'd lay my life if you'd let me, sir, that Admiral Jacko has collared it! Shall I run and hunt him up and recover it?"
"No, no, steward; it wouldn't be much worth by this time."
And, sure enough, there was Admiral Jacko in the main-top discussing that delicious "plum-duff", with half-shut eyes and all the airs and graces of an epicure. After he had eaten all he could swallow, he stuffed both cheeks, pitched the remains down on the head of an able seaman, then slid down a stay to find and feed the cat.
* * * * * * * * * * *
On the whole, then, I think it must be admitted that the Osprey was rather a happy ship.
When they neared the coast of Venezuela they had the good luck to fall in with the flag-ship of the station. Captain Leeward delivered his despatches and letters for officers and crew, and then to his surprise found that the admiral had a cablegram for him. It was to the effect that he, Captain Leeward, was to join the South American fleet for a few months. This was on account of a cloud that was gathering in Venezuela concerning disputed British possessions on the borders. At that time the cloud was no bigger than a man's hand, but it might spread till it covered all the sky, and darken even our relations with the United States of America, whose president was apparently spoiling for a fight with Britain.
The fleet was to hold itself in readiness to land blue-jackets and marines at any moment.
So they all went cruising together.
The poor Irish "stupidnumerary" was transferred for service to a tiny gun-vessel, and very sorry indeed he was to part with his mess-mates. For, bar chaff, they had all been as happy together as a summer's day is long.
* * * * * * * * * * *
For months the fleet hovered around the coast, only putting out to sea now and then if a storm threatened to blow them on to a lee-shore. But there was much intercourse between the various ships, and at the towns they anchored near, the inhabitants were most hospitable. The flag-ship often gave a dinner or a dance on the upper deck, which was tented over in its after part, and gay with flags and flowers and perfumed foliage.
What a happy, jolly life is that of a young naval officer on occasions like these, and how quickly, while waltzing with some lovely young girl to dreamy music, does he forget all the dangers of the ocean that he has come through!
He just lives for the present. And oh! that present glides far, far too quickly away, yet it is something to look back to with pleasure when once more he is out upon the lone blue sea!